


Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

by SilverLightRaita



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: 1000 words, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, One Shot, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Short One Shot, some cussing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 05:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15066644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLightRaita/pseuds/SilverLightRaita
Summary: He needs to breath. His life is coming undone. Everything has turned for the worst, and when he found a moment of hope... It was snuffed out in a moment...***Owen’s reaction to Charlie’s death.





	Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished a binge of all the Jurassic Movies (including Fallen Kingdom), and I felt an urge to create fanfic based on my boy Owen Grady. 
> 
> This is my take on the scene with Charlie’s death in Jurassic World within Owen’s mind. Just a 1000 word one shot. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Owen clung to his gun, fingers curled around the cool, metal weapon. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, yet it did not drown out the bloodcurdling screams of the men around him and ringing gunshots. He was standing in a battlefield of mass chaos; everyone was dying at the jaws of unstoppable forces, _his_ unstoppable forces.

 

At that thought, he clenched his teeth. If they hadn't cooked up a monster in the lab, his girls would be fine. They wouldn't be attacking, and no one would be dying. He could be lazily feeding his girls, shamelessly flirting with an annoyed Claire, and avoiding his paperwork once more. But he had a feeling that nothing would be the same after this day, at least not for him. When he got out of there, or rather if he got out, Owen plotted to strangle anyone who had a hand in making the giant bitch who turned his girls. Before that, he'd have to find a way out of the jungle.

 

He charged through underbrush, avoiding areas with the most yelling and gunfire. It wasn't until the sounds were far behind him and the trees began parting that he slowed. The man shuffled carefully through the bushes. Pushing forwards, he found himself in a patch of clear ground. Before him was long, wild grass, bending in the gentle breeze.

 

His body turned when he heard the cracking of branches, _or were they bones?_ , and a low sqwack. The grass was parting, a tail thrashing above it before disappearing. Suddenly, a reptilian head popped up, eyes boring into his. It was one of his girls, Charlie to be exact. Her green scales shimmered in the faint light, dark liquid staining her muzzle. _Blood_ , his stomach clenched, his gun trained at her. And they just stared for what seemed like forever.

 

He then slowly lowered his weapon, vision trained on the velociraptor. Something inside him begged him not to shoot. This was his girl; he had raised her. For some reason, he was compelled to listen and now just watched her, waiting for his possible demise at the teeth of his raptor.

 

But Charlie stayed put, head tilting and letting out a chirp of sorts. She was the youngest of the four raptors under his care, slightly shorter than the other three but just as deadly. That was obvious by the offending blood smeared across her scales. She could kill him at any moment; he wasn't their alpha right now. And yet recognition flashed in her intelligent eyes, and she swayed a bit.

 

She looked curious now. The camera set was still strapped to her head, a red light blipped at one side of the device. It sickened Owen that Hoskins would treat his girls as tools, weapons of mass destruction. Given the chance, Owen was definitely going to strangle him along with the damn scientists in charge. He had bigger problems at the moment as he gazed into Charlie’s passive eyes.

 

Hope churned in his gut. She remembered him. He lowered his weapon completely now, deciding whether or not to run or to confront Charlie. But life has a shitty way of ruining things, and its condemning hand came as a faint flash in the distance, whistling through the air loudly.

 

Owen was thrown off his feet by the missle's impact. The explosion warped his hearing, turning everything into muffled noise and a pounding heart. He laid on his back in shock for a few moments, staring blankly. Pain consumed he sprawled out form in an instant. Uncomfortable warmth from the explosion felt like a raw sunburn across his face. His muscles twinged from him slamming into the ground. Rocks, small and sharp, were embedded in his hands and back.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

He sat up, sweat running down his muddy face. Bright sparks swirled in his vision, rising from the burning field before him. Stinging bile rose in his throat as the smell of burnt flesh met his nose. The fire crackles angrily as it ate at the dry plant life, consuming anything within.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

He kept breathing a steady pattern as he despirately tried to push down the nausea, elbows locked as he braced himself on his arms. Charlie was gone. Nothing remained where she stood other than the flames licking up to the night sky and the vile smell of death. Wetness sheened over his vision; he blinked. The edges of his eyes stung with tears, sweat, and dust.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

His breath hitched as a shout resounded in the jungle. _Barry_... He knew his friend's voice anywhere. The man needed help. Owen made his way to a standing position. He couldn't loose anyone else. His heart constricted. He had to help Barry, and... _Oh God, Claire and the kids._ They were back at the paddock. How long would it take for his girls to go checking back there?

 

Gripping his gun in sweating hands, he started moving. He would mourn Charlie later. He needed to focus on the living or soon he'd be the only one left. The man gave one last glance at the flames as they ate away at the field of grass, spreading. Yes, he would mourn her death later, along with those he had been with when her and the others turned.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

How could this night get anymore shitty?

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Firelight faded behind him as he followed the sounds of his companion’s loud yells. He pumped his legs, taking in sharp breaths. Owen blinked, and a few tears leaked down his dirty cheeks and along his stubbly jawline.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

He gritted his teeth, pushing through the stinging tears and burning muscles.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

His clammy hands tightened their hold on his rifle.

 

Inhale. Exhale. Repeat.

 

_Inhale... Exhale... Repeat..._

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more oneshots from Owen’s point of view. If the response on this is positive, I might consider it (or... yeah know... get possessed by the urges of fictional writing).


End file.
